I am fevered by the sunset /
I am fretful with the bay /
For the wanderlust is on me /
And my soul is in Cathay.
-- Robert Harding

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

The Worst Movie Review Ever: Eat, Pray, Love

This is the worst movie review you will ever read of Eat Pray Love. Let me clarify: It is definitely not the worst movie you will ever see (unless your viewing selection is dedicated entirely to Masterpiece Theatre and PBS marathons, in which case you are probably too smart to be reading my blog anyways. Seriously. If you're one of those people, stop reading my blog and invest the next 10 minutes in doing something more worthy of your talents, such as learning how to play the cello or mastering a fifth language. Thank you. Now, back to the normal people, the plebeians, or "pleebs" as I like to call us.); however, this actual review of the movie will likely be the worst you'll ever read, since I'm not even going to pretend to stay focused on the actual plot or the acting, and if the convoluted syntax of this sentence hasn't already convinced you how rambling this review aspires to be, then nothing will.

Eat Pray Love features a divorced American woman in search of herself as she travels the beautiful and exotic locales of Italy, India, and Indonesia to indulge in both the sensual pleasures of the body and the spiritual release of the mind. I went to see the movie with two of my girlfriends since I figured we could all identify with the main character, though as it turned out none of us had been divorced, or even the first step -- married, or practiced spiritual meditations, unless occasionally falling asleep in church counts. Nor had any of us been to India or Indonesia, though I had been to Italy twice and Ashley had once been to Iraq, and that also starts with an "I."

(As you can see by the two photos above, Julia Roberts and I do, however, bear a striking resemblance in regards to our physical appearances.)

Ok, so down to the nitty gritty. The movie's plot can be summarized through the following abridged and somewhat altered dialogue. You should imagine the following being said in a high-pitched, squealy voice (not that Julia Roberts actually uses such a voice; it's just more fun to imagine it that way). “Ohhh, I've found a handsome man who's madly in love with me! Whatever shall I do? I think I'll dump him.” And repeat. In fact, this is the entire action sequence of the movie, just Elizabeth Gilbert -- via Julia Roberts -- dumping men and then professing guilt for breaking their hearts. Her soulful whines about how to get rid of her latest handsome man acquisition kinda made me want to slap her, even though, as my friend Katie pointed out, the men were very likely not as handsome in real life.

The real interesting twist in the movie, from my viewpoint, was when it ended. My friends Katie and Ashley, as well as myself, were ushered out a side door of the viewing room and into a bare steel stairwell, which had a very different atmosphere from the clean, well-lit movie postered elevator we had ascended to reach the appropriate viewing room. Since we were now at the top floor of the movie house, we naturally began to descend the stairs. Down, down, down we went until we reached the basement doors, which were locked and bolted shut by a steel bar. Up, up, up we backtracked, trying to find a way out of the movie house. We glanced out of an overlook onto the vending area where we'd bought our popcorn and squid snacks just a few hours earlier. The place was void of people and lights, eerie in its shadowy desertion. By this point, we had picked up about three or four disoriented Koreans who had also become lost in the movie theatre and then all of us began wandering up and down the stairs. Finally, one guy decided to go into an unlit viewing room. Like little lemmings, we all followed. The room was cast in velvety black, except for a few pinpricks of emergency lights from the floor, and it would have been dead silent were it not for my voiced suggestions that this was now the perfect setting for a horror movie. After going through the empty viewing room and out another hallway, we finally reached an outside door. This one, too, was locked, but in a more simple manner, and one of the Korean theatre-goers just reached up to the top of the door and released the spring lock. We all passed through and back onto the street, successful at last in leaving the Hotel California of movie theatres.

6 comments:

I read that book and was very annoyed, yet I still went to see the movie (mainly to see the pretty places I'd been). Pretty sure the Balinese house at the beginning of the movie, where the old dude lives, is the guest house where I stayed in Ubud. Not thrilling, but I pretty well laughed myself silly at the ridiculousness of skinny actresses eschewing being skinny, embracing their non-existent muffin tops and "gorging" on pizza.

I actually liked the book. My only real qualm with the book is that while it's an enjoyable read, it's vastly overhyped. Meanwhile, there are a number of other women writers/travelers I admire much more and who receive little to no public attention, such as Dervla Murphy (Full Tilt), Mary Morris (Nothing to Declare), and Laurie Gough (Kite Strings of the Southern Cross). These women are amazing in both their sense of adventure and their writing styles, producing works that are far more powerful than "Eat Pray Love." Yet they are almost entirely unknown.

This movie has finally come out in Thailand & I'm seeing it tomorrow. I've read the book and had my issues with it, but I am much more forgiving when it comes to movies than books. As long as the movie is cheesy & makes me believe that I, too, could have hot man falling in love with me in tropical destinations, than I'm cool with it.Thanks for your comment on my blog! I would have replied to your comment but my comment box is annoyingly finnicky & doesn't want to hear anything from me. But I decided I'd try stalking you for a change! Fun!

Hi Sally! I just now noticed your comments. I feel so special that Unbrave Girl reads my stuff, too. Yay for fellow travel bloggers!

I'm sure that a hot man in a tropical destination will soon fall in love with you. And by watching EPL, you will have learned the proper skills for dumping him, breaking his heart, and moving on to the next hot man -- because apparently there's a plethora of them out there. Well, not out there in my world, but out there somewhere between E. Gilbert's world and movieland. I'm sure it's a place that really exists and someday I hope to move there.

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About Me

I like the way, in early summer, fat peonies scatter clouds of bloom. I like to wear roses in my hair - and my heart on my sleeve. I like the sound of trains late at night. After watching a scary movie, I sleep with the lights on. The term “flying buttresses” makes me laugh. I was raised in Ohio farmland, among low fields of grain and cloudy dirt roads, but I am always homesick for the sea.